


Doodles

by sidekickjoey



Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Barb is kinda OC but I love her anyway, Barista!Curt, Curt also likes Owen, Curt likes doodling, Customer!Owen, Fluff, M/M, This is an excuse to procrastinate, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Winter, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:15:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26259274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidekickjoey/pseuds/sidekickjoey
Summary: On an extremely busy day in the coffee shop, one customer makes Curt really glad he showed up to work.
Relationships: Owen Carvour & Agent Curt Mega, Owen Carvour/Agent Curt Mega
Comments: 15
Kudos: 70





	Doodles

**Author's Note:**

> You ever stop and think hmm, Spies only has one coffee shop AU? I should fix that? Here is my fix. It's (relatively) short and sweet because I'm balancing schoolwork and writing my Spies WIP, but it truly made me feel so fluffy writing. Hope you get the same happiness reading it xx <3 Let me know!

Curt stumbled through the coffeeshop door, clutching his beanie as a gust of wind pushed him inside. It was yet another day of work at Unusual Skies, the hipster coffee store he begged for a job two years back. There was already a hefty handful of patrons at the shop, all huddled over their cups and mugs in the cold winter air. Curt knew that meant trouble. Or, at least, loads of orders to make on his shift.

He did not dislike his job. Curt adored all things coffee and drank it on the regular when not at work. He enjoyed getting to geek out with others about it, to smell the aroma of the coffee beans, to try out new recipes. However, winter days made him strongly consider hate. People forgot their common sense on winter days. They would run in, bark orders at him, and not even throw him a thank you as they parted ways. He hated it. It was not uncommon for him to sneer at a few of them on those days. Given the chaotic start to this one, Curt felt a good couple sneers were on their way.

“Oh thank goodness you made it,” Barb, his coworker and dear friend, said as she caught sight of him. She worked the cash register, always perky to customers and keen to greet them with a bright smile and bob of her head, her short ponytail swaying. She was the one light in his day, usually. Seeing her today had little effect on Curt, though. “Cynthia was about to make _me_ phone you in.”

“She would have lived,” he said, pushing past the swiveling divider to get behind the counter. As much as their manager liked to play dramatics, things were rarely so desperate that he was begged to come in, even on a winter’s day. He grabbed his apron from the hook and tied it on. Once satisfied, he ran over to the machines. 

“Yeah, but I barely did. You’re lucky you missed the morning shift. If I hadn’t been training the new girl, Tatiana, I might have died.”

Curt shrugged and went to work on the line of cups Barb had queued. “I would have never doubted you, Barb.”

She glared. 

At that moment, another person came whooshing into the coffeeshop, distracting them. Curt was not surprised to see it. The wind was crazy that day. Anyone who _didn’t_ feel its effects had to be superhuman or _really_ good at balancing. What he _was_ surprised to see, however, was the person behind all the noise. He was tall, but not overly so, with shaggy brown hair about as long as Curt’s and a slight scruff. He was wrapped in a brown leather jacket, no doubt sealing multiple layers below, and a warm maroon scarf. It complemented his eyes. It also offset the slight crookedness of his jaw. Without exaggeration, he might have been the most attractive man Curt had ever laid eyes on, and he did not know what to do. Judging by the small hitch in Barb’s breath, it seemed she did not, either. 

His chest tightened as he went back to work, letting her greet him.

“Hi there, what can I get you today?”

As if this handsome stranger could not get any better, he ran his hand through his hair. Curt stole a glance over the machine at it and about burned himself. Barb remained doe-eyed, waiting on his every breath.

“Oh, bugger, I didn’t come ready with a decision,” he said. His British accent was noted intensely by Curt and Barb, so much so that silence drifted across the bunch. If it were not for a pastry Barb had put in dinging, that silence might have lasted an eternity. Curt’s mind at least was far too occupied to form words. Judging from the way Barb jumped at the ding, hers was no better. She politely excused herself and made her way over to the oven. Somehow, this absence allowed one coherent thought to enter Curt’s mind. He peaked out from the machine, catching the man’s eye and hoping to God he only looked half as frazzled as he felt. He did not get the chance to check if the wind had done a number on his hair, but he could hope the rest of him was still in place. 

“I’d recommend the crème brûlée latte,” he said, noting the way he stared back at him with the softest gaze he had ever seen with a swarm of butterflies in his chest. “It’s a little sweet, but it’s delicious.” 

“Oh? Well, then I should have to try it then.”

Curt felt his breath leave him. Not only was the handsome stranger _smiling_ at him, but he looked genuinely grateful for the suggestion. That was a sight he could get used to seeing every day. 

Returning from handing her customer their pastry, Barb stumbled into the exchange without a clue. She still was doe-eyed, unaware that their crush was watching Curt out of the corner of his eye and that Curt’s cheeks were as red as his scarf. As such, she put on a cute smile, rested her elbows on the counter, and batted her eyelashes his way. 

“Make any decisions?”

Blinking, he cleared his throat and came back to reality. Curt, too, forced himself away from his gaze. As nice as it was to stare, he still was two drinks behind. He had to catch up if he did not want Cynthia breathing down his neck. Or Barb.

“I actually have, love. One grande crème brûlée latte, please.” 

_Love._ The word rang loudly in Curt and Barb’s ears as she took his money and he prepared his station for the order. Was that something this guy casually said, or did that mean more? Curt could have sworn they had a moment, and that the taking of his suggestion meant something, but could he have also read the situation wrong? It was very possible. Anything was. He was still flustered from starting work -- maybe he was off his game. He just had a gut feeling that that could not be the case, though. Something about those eyes had to be true...

So, when Barb handed the cup for his order over, and the all-too-fitting name for this handsome stranger ‘Owen’ appeared in his view, he figured he might as well shoot his shot. No good was ever done pining away at someone. He had seen that firsthand when Barb spent a solid year of their friendship going after him despite him not playing for her team. No, if he wanted Owen, he would have to act, and act he would. Pulling out a sharpie he had wedged in one of his apron pockets, he picked the cup from its line and doodled. 

Straight-up doodled. 

Curt decided that the best way to express his interest would be to doodle what he made him feel like. Of course, he could not be _too_ obvious. Curt did need to keep his job if this went awry, and Cynthia might not look too kindly on a scribble of him making out with someone scribbled on that very someone’s cup. Instead, he started with something chill: stars. Little stars, ranging from well-crafted to rushed, dotted the outside of Owen’s cup. Curt felt they represented the warm and electric feeling Owen’s voice gave him. Next came a snowman. This snowman was nothing super special, but Curt did take care to make sure the scarf it wore looked very familiar. 

The one downfall of Curt’s doodling spree had to be the sorry attempt at Rudolph he added by the snowman. He had intended for it to represent the giddy feeling Owen’s presence left him, but in reality, it looked more like a nightmare. Curt simply could not draw legs, or rather hooves. He also struggled with eyes, but that was beside the point. It was a lost cause of a drawing anyway. 

The last thing he could do before Barb chided him to hurry up was scribble a few hearts here and there. They were small, but if Owen looked, he would be sure to notice. They surrounded the snowman and danced with the stars. Curt made sure to add one by his name, just below the N. It was more script-like than the others. He could only hope as he made the drink that it would be appreciated. 

“Owen?”

Chestnut eyes met Curt’s from across the room. The time had come. Curt watched him stride across the room to him with nerves in the pit of his stomach. He clutched the cup tight in his hand, the very hand growing clammy and threatening to drop it more readily than Curt would dare to admit. When Owen finally approached the counter, flashing him a smile, it almost dropped without prompt. Curt cleared his throat, extending it to him to save from doom.

“I hope you enjoy.”

Owen’s eyes sparkled. “I’m sure I will.”

To Curt’s utter shock, he winked. Not only did he wink, but he winked and dropped a whole _bill_ into the tip jar. A whole _ten dollar bill._ It was almost a two-hundred-percent tip and it was enough to stop Curt’s heart dead in its rapidly speeding tracks. He must have looked like a gaping fish to Owen. His jaw was nowhere near its normal place. His eyes were far too wide. He might as well have become a cartoon creature. 

He was pretty sure he did when, to his further surprise, Owen left with a soft, “See you... _Curt_.”

Of course Owen found it from the nameplate on his apron, but Curt would be _damned_ if the use of his name did not tug at his heart even harder. He would be damned if the way Owen’s hands encircled the cup, reveling in its warmth, or the way he took a tentative sip at his seat and smiled in bliss, did not make his week. Curt could watch that scene replay in his mind for years and never get sick of it, he swore. 

Fuck it all, he was falling for this guy hard. He didn’t care anymore if it was all for naught. 

Returning to his machine and grabbing the cup Barb had set down from their next customer, he leaned over to her and pointed to where Owen sat across the room.

“Mine,” he whispered.

“You're ridiculous,” she shook her head.

~~~~~~

The next time Curt saw Owen enter the coffee shop, it was less busy. 

The sun was out. Whenever the sun was out, there were far fewer people stopping in for orders. Curt took over registers on these kinds of days. He was not the fastest cashier, but the slower stream of customers gave newer workers like Tatiana an easy way to train without getting overwhelmed. It also gave workers like Barb a day off. With the prospect of Owen on the table, Curt was not as bummed as he normally was to see her on vacation.

He showed up toward the end of Curt’s shift. He was wearing a long-sleeved black and white striped shirt and jeans, looking like something out of a movie scene. His boots clicked on the floor as he strode up to the counter. When Curt looked up and noticed the noise was in fact his, he froze like a deer in headlights. Owen, on the other hand, smiled at him as if nothing were the matter. Damn him.

“Hello again,” he said.

Curt could not work up a reply.

“I really did enjoy your recommendation last time, so I figured I might stop on by again and see if you have any others?”

Was he dreaming? Curt felt like he was dreaming. Owen wanted his recommendation? Again? And he supposedly hadn’t been scared off by the doodles? That was more than he could ever ask for. Curt had to get things right. He had to come up with something good, something that would keep up the momentum he somehow started. Fumbling for a cup, he started scribbling on it.

“Uh, I think I have something in mind! You don’t have any allergies, do you?”

He shook his head. “No, love.”

 _Love_. God, he had to be dreaming. Finishing Owen’s name, Curt sent the cup Tati’s way and turned back to him. He also returned by tucking some of his hair behind his ear, something that he internally cursed himself for doing upon thinking of the last time Owen had shown up. He was acting exactly like Barb, for all the crap he had given her. He felt like a hopeless case. 

“T-That’ll be $3.50.”

Grinning, Owen handed Curt his card. It was a pretty blue color. Curt liked that color a lot. He focused on it as he swiped, trying not to seem like a stalker for noticing the last name on it in the process. _Carvour_. It fit. Then again, Curt was certain everything about Owen just _fit._ He was too good to be true. He handed it back to him, feeling a blush start to grow. If Owen noticed it, he was nice enough to not comment on it.

“I didn’t know you worked the register.”

“I don’t normally,” Curt explained, thanking the world no new customers were trailing in yet. “It’s slower today, so they let me give this a go.”

“How generous of them.”

Curt laughed. “Yeah, well. I’m not sure my boss has a generous bone in her body.” Paling, he looked over to see Tatiana paused in her actions, a brow raised. He blushed and quickly looked away, just _knowing_ he was going to pay for that one later. Owen smiled.

“Well, I’m glad I caught you working it today. As lovely as it was talking to you last time, I did sort of want to say more than a few words over a machine.”

“Oh?”

“Owen?”

Tati. 

Curt had forgotten she was making Owen’s order. From the startled look on Owen’s face, he looked to have done so as well. That was a good sign, at least. Rather, Curt was keen to take it as one. He could only hope he was so compelling a distraction so as to pull attention from the main reason Owen showed up to the store in the first place.

With a small ‘excuse me,’ Owen made his way over to the pickup counter. He grabbed the drink from where it lay and returned to Curt at the register, resting his hand on the counter upon seeing no other customer in line. Curt watched in awed silence as doing so caused his shirt to ride up just a bit at the hem. 

He really was in a blessed timeline.

Well, at least he had been. All was going well before he caught Owen taking a sip of Curt’s order and twisting up his face like it was the worst thing he had ever tasted. That, quite frankly, was like a bullet to the gut. Curt figured at that point that whatever Owen had planned to say to him would never be said. He just hoped Owen would continue to talk to him. Seeing him open his mouth, he braced for the worst.

“Well, that was unexpected.”

“I-I tried to change things up and give you tea today. B-Because you’re British.” Curt winced, realizing just how dumb of an idea that had been as he spoke it out loud. He should have stuck to the doodles. “Was it made wrong? Tati is new, I can remake you it if you want, o-or I could-”

“Curt.”

Curt panted, frazzled. “Yeah?”

“It’s just not my favorite tea.”

“Oh,” he said softly. Owen cocked his head to the side, eyes growing softer as he gazed upon him. In a move that about destroyed Curt on the spot, he reached across the counter and placed his hand on top of Curt’s. Curt immediately looked up at him, and when he saw Owen’s face, he melted. God, if he was any more confident a man and they had spent more than thirty minutes total in the same room as each other, he would kiss that lovesick look off of his face. 

“Green tea, if I’m not mistaken?”

Curt nodded, eyes wide.

“My favorite is earl grey, love,” he explained, smiling slightly. “Do not sweat it, though. I am very particular with my tea. I do, though, truly appreciate the thought you put into it.”

“You do?”

Nodding, Owen did the unthinkable and squeezed Curt’s hand. Curt could’ve cried, it overwhelmed his emotions so wonderfully. “In fact, I am actually here to see if I would have the chance to pick your thoughts more.”

“You are?”

“Yes Curt,” he laughed, “what other reason would I need caffeine at nearly five in the afternoon?”

Curt blushed yet again. It looked to endear Owen even more.

“If you would have me, I would love to take you out sometime. Maybe not a coffee shop. I feel like that might be more anxiety filled setting wise rather than cozy.”

Curt had a sneaking suspicion that anywhere with Owen would be simultaneously panic-inducing and immensely cozy to him, but he did not dare speak of it. Not when Owen’s hand still rested so comfortably on top of his. 

“But, I do want to go somewhere where we could get to know each other,” he stressed. “Would you like to do that with me, Curt?”

“Yes,” he said. It was far too quick and enthusiastic of an answer, but he could not find it within himself to do anything otherwise. He was too enthralled by being correct about Owen’s feelings and his own to care about how he acted. Thankfully, Owen looked to be just as pleased. He sealed Curt’s fate with a kiss to his cheek, a wink, and a slipping of his number to him with his free hand. Once the small piece of paper was secured, he gave Curt’s hand one final squeeze and stepped back. 

“I’ll see you soon then, love. Oh, and do come ready to tell me about your drawings. I was quite fond of them last time. Cheers.”

Curt blinked owlishly as he walked away.

To his right, Tati shook her head and sighed.

“ _Boys._ ”


End file.
